Seeing Red
by Laree England
Summary: D'Artagnan has recieved an invitation to the King's ball, but when a man seems to want to steal Constance away from him, he sees red. R&R!


**A/N: It's been a while since I have written a D'Artagnan/Constance fic, and this one has just been gathering dust in my jounal, so I thought that I'd finally post this little one-shot :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Three Musketeers**

King Louis XIII was throwing yet another magnificent ball. Much to everyone's surprise, the king had even invited our four brave musketeers. They had initially tried to turn down the king's offer, but he persisted on until the musketeers had no choice but to go. Aramis and Porthos, of course, had absolutely no issue procuring a date, and Porthos went off immediately to get a new outfit. D'Artagnan knew that Constance, being the queen's lady-in-waiting, would be going to the ball anyway, but sped off to the palace to tell her that, he, too, had received an invitation. Athos grudgingly went back up to his room to bring out the suit that the king had donated to him almost a year ago.

But now they were all at the ball, Porthos in the middle of a thick group of well-dressed men and women, Aramis off in some secret corner with his lady-friend, and Athos sat at a table with a n elegant glass of wine in his hand. D'Artagnan never left Constance's side as she drifted between groups of people, apparently knowing them all rather well.

Constance's legs grew weary after a time, so D'Artagnan brought her over to an empty table, holding out a chair for her. She sat down and smiled up at him.

"I'll go get you a drink." D'Artagnan whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek before striding off.

He grabbed two glasses of wine and turned around to see that Constance was back on her feet, speaking with another man a little above their age. His face was animated and his hands were exaggerating what he was speaking about. As was his nature, as soon as our brave Gascon saw the way that Constance was smiling and laughing with the man, and then the man grabbing her hand and beginning to pull her on to the dance floor, D'Artagnan's blood began to boil. He slammed the cups back down and walked as calmly as a man whose woman was being coveted could, stepping between the man and Constance.

"Excuse me," said D'Artagnan, balling his hands into fists. His voice was, surprisingly, even. "But Mademoiselle Bonacieux came with me."

"Oh?" said the man, his eyes raised in mock fear. "Well maybe she's leaving with me," he taunted and got just inches away from D'Artagnan's face.

D'Artagnan saw red. Bright, fiery, brilliant red. He was fighting to keep his temper down, but he could hear his own rattling breath.

"I am warning you, Monsieur," said D'Artagnan.

"What?" the man laughed. "What can you do me, the Count de Moreau?"

D'Artagnan cocked his head to the side, his nose almost touching the Count's. "I don't think that you want to know, Monsieur _Count_."

Constance had recognized the look in D'Artagnan's eye from the moment that he came over between her and Count de Moreau, but it had taken her until now to take action.

"D'Artagnan, don't." she said, grabbing his shoulder. "He is only a friend."

"Some friend," said D'Artagnan. "Is this what all of your friends are like?"

"D'Artagnan-"

"Come, Mademoiselle," said the Count, caressing Constance's arm. "Leave this brash man and I will show you how a Count is able to treat a woman." he sneered at D'Artagnan. "I assure you that I will be much more- _enjoyable - than this mere little boy."_

_D'Artagnan reached for his side, but his hands groped at an empty space. Damn! He had left his sword at home. D'Artagnan cursed under his breath. _

_Right when D'Artagnan had made up his mind to simply use brute force to bring this man down, Constance pushed the man away with her delicate hand._

"_On the contrary, Count de Moreau," said she, "I find Monsieur D'Artagnan to be quite enjoyable."_

"_Mademoiselle Bonacieux-"_

"_Hey," interrupted D'Artagnan. "You heard the lady."_

_The man didn't move, taking in breath to argue._

"_Shoo." said Constance, waving a hand._

_D'Artagnan had to press his lips together to keep from laughing._

"_The day will come, Mademoiselle Bonacieux, where you will wish that you hadn't rejected me so!" exclaimed the Count._

"_No," said Constance. "I am happy with D'Artagnan."_

_With a great harrumph, the Count left, leaving Constance and D'Artagnan alone._

"_So, you find me enjoyable?"_

_Constance spun around and noticed how close she was to the young musketeer. She didn't dare let on to how hard her heart was pounding in her chest. She blushed. She hadn't realized that D'Artagnan would be teasing her for what she had said to the Count._

_Constance's red face was enough for D'Artagnan._

"_Well," he said, pulling Constance closer to him by her waist. "You, Constance, are not too bad yourself."_

_The smug little smile he gave her was enough to make her kiss that cocky expression right off of that handsome face of his._


End file.
